


Fifty bytes per second

by Xaverri



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaverri/pseuds/Xaverri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during The Resistance era and based on <a href="http://oi61.tinypic.com/20zw5qp.jpg">This picture of Matt.</a> </p>
<p>You're hired by Warners to work on a one-off performance for a band called Muse. You're an expert and professional so you like to work late to get up to scratch with your new project. One late evening, you did not expect to meet one of your new colleagues in such a <i>detailed</i> way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty bytes per second

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mjartrod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjartrod/gifts).



The keyboard-strokes are the only sound in the office. It is late, Friday evening and the department is deserted. I am the only one left, running through my to-do list at a pace that I’d be unable to keep up whilst surrounded by the chatter of my new colleagues. Not that I don’t like them; they are a friendly bunch -a nice change from my previous assignment where competition between co-workers was high and the atmosphere tense- but I prefer working alone if things really need to get done.

 

When my agent called me up to offer a shot at this new challenge, I grasped the opportunity with both hands even before all the details were revealed. Fortunately, it turned out quite the unique job. Not every IT engineer gets to experience building up a live production from scratch and straight from the beginning it had been most interesting.

 

It had only been my first week, and we were still very early in the planning-phase of things to come. The general idea of how the production would need to look like, and what demands needed to be met was put on paper and from that I had started building a project plan, schedules and a list of hardware the production would require.

 

It wasn’t going to be a massive production. I learned that the band which my new team was creating this for had a history of expansive tours with top-notch shows. This, however, was going to be a sort of special, one-off performance during two festivals. It meant that the band wasn’t as free to create their own set as with their own tour but that they were bound by the limits of a festival stage plus a short time-slot to set it all up.

 

It doesn’t matter to me; all I care about is what’s going on behind said stage during the actual performance. Already I was lost in a world of network plans, server building and database programming. I had gotten a pile of documents to read through; the team that this band toured with had been nearly the same for the last decade and they all had their own preferences on hardware and programming so I knew quite enough to be able to jot down most of the basics. All in all it seemed to be an easy team to work with and the people here appear skilled and experienced.

 

I glance at the clock in the bottom corner of my new company-laptop, nearly 9 pm. I had dinner at the canteen earlier, the buffet provided by the catering every day is vast and the choices plentiful so I was pleasantly content. Warner’s turned out to be a great company to be working at, so far; they have lots of privileges for their workers. I’m a night-owl, operating at my best in the late hours of the day, so thankfully the office is open late, and I’m free to come and go at my leisure, save for the team-meetings we have, of course.

 

Swift footsteps sound through the hallway, signalling the presence of another co-worker roaming the building at the late hours. I look up in time to see a man pass the hall outside the IT department, catching a flash of blue eyes and wild hair as he peeks inside whilst passing. The footsteps halt beyond my line of sight and suddenly the guy leans back and gives me a smile.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Hi,” I reply, copying his smile.

 

He steps back and turns to me fully in the hallway. “Why are you still around this time a day?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

 

He raises an eyebrow. _Cute._

 

“Was in a meeting, you know how long those can get,” he shifts his iPad from one hand to the other and curiously looks around the office from his spot in the door opening.

 

“I do know,” I answer. “For me, I just prefer working late, really. What department do you work at?”

 

He sniggers, looking at me strangely. Blue eyes lock with mine as if I am testing him. For the life of me I can’t figure that look out. Eventually he replies after an awkward pause, “I’m in stage design. You’re new here, right?”

 

“Yes, I got hired so I’m not one of the regular team. Just for Muse’s performance at the Reading and Leeds festivals, are you on their team, too?”

 

“Er, yeah,” Pulling his nose he casts another examining glance around the office, stopping at the rows of servers, our lounge area and other seemingly interesting spots.

 

“You can come in, if you want?” I offer friendly. I am keen to meet more colleagues, especially if they tend to roam the building late at night wearing stylish high-collared coats and charming smiles.

 

He looks at his feet, shuffling awkwardly, “I’m not allowed anywhere near IT.”

 

I laugh, but stop when I realise he is being serious, “Excuse me?”

 

“Well, the thing is,” he explains. “I kind of messed something up a long time ago, and since then I get a right bollocking whenever I get close to any servers or anything technical.”

 

“I won’t tell. No one is around and I’m here to keep an eye on you,” I giggle.

 

Fears placated, he moves inside with a happy smile and takes a closer peek at the server-rack, “What’s all this for?”

 

I’ve always prized myself on my ability to translate the most difficult, technical stuff into language understandable by the general user, so I explain him the function of the various servers and what their role is during a performance. It is nice to have such an attentive audience; he seems genuinely interested and even asks questions.

 

“You’re a proper nerd!” The glint in his eyes tells me that it is meant as a compliment, not an insult, and I smile shyly.

 

“Thanks, I guess.”

 

He comes up to my desk, drops his iPad on it, grabs a few of my papers without asking and leafs through them. It is giving me the opportunity to check him out up-close, “What did you do?”

 

Those striking eyes glance sideways to me, “Sorry?”

 

“I mean, why aren’t you allowed here, what did you mess up?”

 

Sighing, he puts the papers down again, “I destroyed the website.”

 

I had to laugh at his ‘beaten-puppy’ expression, “But you’re in stage-design!” I exclaim, “How did you manage to destroy a website? Did you drop scaffolding on the server?”

 

He huffs and rolls one of the other desk chairs towards mine to sit next to me, “It’s a long story, but basically I was bored of the old website and wanted a new one. Tom refused to build me a new one, lazy bastard, so I tried to create one from scratch but it took bloody ages. Then I just tried altering the existing files,” he cuts off his rapid speech to lean forward with a finger on his lips, “And now shush about this, because it’s a secret: I fucked it all up on purpose and then lied about it.”

 

I fake-gasp to his amusement and he swivels around on the chair, continuing, “Said I made a mistake trying to learn the language of HTML or some crap-excuse like that, got told off and then Tom had to hire some company to build a new one after all. I think it’s the one we use now.”

 

I had taken a look at the band’s website when I got the job, interested to see what kind of productions they had in the past, but the thing had given me a headache before I could find any decent behind-the-stage footage. “Tom?”

 

“Kirk. Tom Kirk, he does that sorta stuff.”

 

“Oh, right. The media manager, correct?” He nods and a thought comes up to me, “Why did he even let you near the files?”

 

“I’ve been around since the start. We used to have a much smaller team and we all helped where we could. Or well, tried to help,” he replies, winking and grinning secretively.

 

My laugh ebbs away awkwardly when he suddenly lowers his lashes to look at me and I try not to blush at his blatant staring. I realise that he is the kind of guy who has all the confidence of the world. For all our innocent bantering, I start to feel increasingly self-conscious the closer he gets to me, it doesn’t help much that he is now openly checking me out as well and I suddenly feel a bit warm in my blazer and pencil-skirt. I interrupt his ogling by clearing my throat; he blinks and promptly sticks out his hand, “I’m Matt, by the way.”

 

My hand nearly disappears in his when I introduce myself. For such a slender guy, I notice he has quite large hands with long fingers, “Hi, Matt, how do you do?”

 

“Oh, same old.” His hands flutter about, “Interrupting people’s work by being overly obnoxious.”

 

Again he makes me giggle and I start to feel a blush creep up for real this time. _Why is this guy having such an effect on me? Is it his childish charm, that cheeky smile? Or maybe the fact that he is now looking straight at my lips with those piercing eyes?_

 

“You don’t often see women working for our technical departments, and certainly not as pretty as you,” and with that the room’s temperature suddenly sky-rockets. The unexpected compliment has me baffled and I’m left staring at him for a good few seconds. The glint in his eyes hasn’t left, but he appears quite serious, all of a sudden. Things like this don’t occur, normally. A guy you’ve only met at work for ten minutes never has such a brazen attitude and I feel as if I’ve been dropped inside some sort of a cheesy, romantic novel.

 

“Eh, thanks.” I stammer.

 

He seems to sense my discomfort and gets up to move behind my chair, “So, what are you working on, then?”

 

Trying to steady my promptly beating heart I take a deep breath and focus back on my screen to explain him the schedule that I had been drawing before while he leans on the back of my chair.

 

I can’t help stuttering in the middle of my little presentation when out of the blue his fingers slide through my hair. He leans down towards me and I feel his hot breath on my neck where he brushes a few tendrils aside. I start shivering uncontrollably when his lips touch my neck without warning, “What are you-…”

 

“Tell me to stop,” He challenges in a whisper, then licks my earlobe, making me clench my thighs together for the fear of my vagina exploding right there and then. I can’t speak, I should tell him to stop. Social protocol _demands_ that I tell him to stop. This is unheard of; it is highly unprofessional, extremely obscene and no man should have the guts to just reach down, open my blazer and stroke my- _Oh my God._

 

The blush I’m sporting is spreading; when I look down to his hands -those long fingers brushing my nipples through my low-cut under shirt- I notice the top of my cleavage has turned into an embarrassingly splotched red colour. Then, when he massages my breasts more forcefully whilst running his tongue along the line of my neck, I know that I have never before in my life been as turned on as I am now. Forget about ‘cheesy, romantic novel’, this turned into ‘cheesy, hard-core porn’ in the blink of an eye.

 

Panting, my chest heaves under his frighteningly skilful hands and his lips are back on my ear. His breathing hasn’t even increased in pace. _How rude._

 

“I don’t think you want me to stop,” he whispers huskily. “You’re not answering me, but your body is telling me all I need to know.”

 

My body decides that a drawn-out moan is a sufficient response, he chuckles sexily at that and then I bravely put my hands on top of his, pressing his palms more tightly against my chest. He attacks my neck with vigour, nibbling along the side and up to my jaw-line. I can’t remember when I closed my eyes but I force them open when he moves away slightly. A small tilt of my head to the side to see what he is up to is enough for him to kiss the side of my mouth wetly. His eyes lock with mine briefly before shifting to my lips, his own displaying a sexy smirk. He studies me again. _What is he waiting for?_

 

My whole body quivers under that overpowering stare and his lips so close to mine, making me feel hot and cold at the same time. My mouth feels dry but I can’t bring myself to lick my lips, frozen under the tension. He moves in closer again, eyes never leaving mine and then his tongue licks the corner of my mouth in the single most arousing touch I have ever experienced. It is nearly enough to forget his hands are still kneading my breasts firmly until he moves one up to grab the back of my head and bring our mouths together. I gasp under his kiss and he uses that advantage to slide his tongue past my lips to meet mine in a sensual dance. My eyes close against the sexual onslaught and I let him guide our movements together. Matt must have sensed my surrender; I feel him smile as he tilts my head to slide our lips tighter together so he can kiss me deeper.

 

My chair swivels me around towards him, he must’ve pushed the back away with his elbow, the sliding of our tongues together never stopping. Both his hands move towards my upper arms and he pulls, urging me to stand. I rise on shaky legs and he immediately wraps his arms around my back to press my body deep into his hot embrace. Our movements turn frantic; I even surprise myself by grabbing the top ends of his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders as he does the same to my blazer. I feel like I am going insane, all sorts of wicked thoughts filling my mind; images of him bending me over the copier, or my desk, images of me going down on my knees in front of him-.

 

All processes of thought are halted when he grabs my arse with both hands and forcefully pushes his hips into mine. I am shocked at the thickness of the iron-hard rod digging into my abdomen; all at once I realise why this guy, this _man_ , is oozing this level of self-assuredness.

 

With one last suck to my bottom lip he pulls back to examine me through lazy eyes, “I want you.”

 

His coarse voice makes my stomach flutter and I look up in what I’m hoping is a sultry look, “Yeah?”

 

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you from the hallway.” His hands move up from my arse to lift my shirt up and over my head as he speaks.

 

“That was only ten minutes ago, Matt.”

 

He leans back a bit to run his fingers lightly up my sides, making me squirm from his heated stare and touch. He simply pushes my bra up over my breasts and runs his thumbs over my naked nipples, checking out my reaction with that arrogant smirk still on his face.

 

“What can I say, I’m an impatient man.” Moving back in his hands go around my back to finally unclasp my bra and his lips start their assault on my neck anew, “Life’s too short to waste when the evidence of mutual attraction is as clear as night and day, don’t you agree?”

 

My breath hitches at his warm, wet breath on my skin. Never before in my life have I been seduced and I feel wave after wave of pure _sex_ break down my already weak dams with every sensual touch or whispered word. This is what it feels like to be at the mercy of a man so sure of himself that he makes me wet within the minutes after he had started his assault on my body.

 

Lost for a witty reply when his tongue licks up a path from my neck, back towards my mouth, I can only stare at him through lidded eyes as he pulls back slightly with a teasing smile, that _infuriating_ smile. Something snaps inside me and with a frustrated growl I grab his hair and yank his mouth back down on mine. He has the audacity to chuckle low in his throat and lets me have control back for a moment but soon enough his tongue is pushing back at mine, battling in a war I could not hope to win.

 

Stepping back after finishing that frenzied kiss, he grins victoriously at my ravished state and grabs both my hands to walk me back towards one of the couches lining the lounge area. I have no choice but to follow his lead, feeling like a conquered virgin; lost in his blue eyes and at his whim for whatever he may want to do with me.

 

Couch reached, he swirls me around and before I can say ‘Large Hadron Collider’ I myself collide with the leather cushions. I thank Warner’s, once again, for being as posh as they are when I feel my body sink into the luxurious softness. Matt unbuckles, then slides his belt out of the loops of his pants after which he pulls out his phone and wallet from his back pocket and tosses both items on another couch. He does this with such careless and calm moves – the bastard is even whistling a tune. But before I can huff at his indifferent behaviour his pants are down and his focus back on me. Smirking, he leans down and grabs my ankle to take off my heel, then repeats the process with my other foot. A soft kiss is placed on my calf and then he kneels down on the couch between my legs, moving the one he still holds behind his thigh to hook behind.

 

His hands leave a hot trail where they slide up my legs, hitching my tight skirt up slowly. Trapped under his gaze – his eyes never leave mine – I find myself lifting my bum without second thought when his hands take the fabric up over my hips. I try to remember what underwear I choose to wear that morning but thinking seems a lost cause and from the hungry look on his face as he studies the area between my legs it has his approval, regardless. One hand grabs my hip, the other slides to the front, over my thigh and I suck in a breath as I feel one, long finger run over the strip of fabric covering me, making my body shiver and heat up even more. When I focus on him again I see he examines the digit, rubbing his thumb over it as if he’s testing the wetness it’s now covered in.

 

“Hot,” he grins, “You’re already so soaked it’s seeping right through your knickers.”

 

I turn crimson.

 

He giggles, “Bit late to get all flushed, no? Or perhaps,” he leans down on one elbow, hovering above me and lowers his voice, “Perhaps I could get you a bit more flushed?”

 

I swallow as he raises one eyebrow invitingly. His shirt brushes my nipples and it tingles pleasantly, his full hand covers my sex and it makes me moan, his lips swallow my cry and my brain nearly shatters. Expertly he massages my lips, with his mouth and his hand, and in my mind it feels as if they are the same. He sucks on my bottom lip and then slides his tongue along it, mimicking the gesture by running his finger over my moist underwear. His body hovering above me is radiating near-suffocating warmth and combined with the teasing slides of his fingers over my panties the experience is mind-blowing and has me close in seconds.

 

His wet kisses continue but before I can reach that climax, he removes his hand and I cry out in protest. He chuckles, I can feel him moving below and my eyes open wide as he replaces his teasing fingers with his thick cock. A pause in his kiss, he groans, and then his eyes open to study my face while he rubs my clit with the head of his dick. We pant in each other’s mouth, hot breath landing on wet lips. The fabric still covering me, mixed with my juices, makes for a filthy friction that we both experience. His eyes narrow to blue slits as he flicks his hard tip over my clit in a perfect rhythm, every movement making my body spasm and cry higher and higher until I finally reach that peak. My hands fly up in his wild hair to crash his mouth to mine because his piercing eyes are too much to bear while I’m riding out my pleasure. He keeps rubbing my clit, breathing harshly through his nose while swallowing my whimpers, prolonging my pleasure until my whole body shakes uncontrollably under his.

 

He stills, but keeps pressing down on me. His mouth leaves mine to trail kisses over my cheek, jaw, that perfect spot below my ear and lower, over my chest. I wheeze and pant, coming down from what must’ve been the nastiest orgasm in my life as his feather-light kisses make me tingle all over. His mouth lowers to a breast and softly kisses, sucks, then licks a nipple, making me hiss from sensitivity. The grin on his face is filthy when he lifts his head. I try to look down on him indignantly but it’s no use with this massive smile spreading on my face from post-bliss.

 

He bends down on his elbows, links his hands above my chest and leans his chin on top, “Guess I was right,” his eyes flick down momentarily to my flushed breasts but I am past caring about the state I’m in. After how he made me feel, Matt deserves every bit of acknowledgement. I just smile back and bite my lower lip teasingly, fully aware that he’s not done with me yet. His smirk darkens and he moves to perch above me on all fours, making me feel trapped like a prey for his predatory sneer.

 

“Ready for round two, are we?” He sits up, grabs my thighs and roughly pulls them over his own, bringing my swollen lips in contact with his cock once again. He reaches down and rubs himself over my sex again, examining every reaction it wrenches out of my body.

 

“You want me inside you?” he questions me in a husky voice, “You want me to fill you up so hard and deep?”

 

I groan, “Yes. Yes, please!”

 

He sneers filthily and hooks one finger under the fabric covering my cunt, sliding one digit in and out rapidly before he shoves the cotton aside, bringing the thick head of his cock level with my entrance. He rubs up and down and I am a quivering mess. He pushes in slightly, stretching my walls and he finally lets out a sound; a deep, growling, sexy moan.

 

“Fuck me, you’re tight.”

 

I whine in response, unable to reply. The pain of wanting is excruciating and covers my entire nether region. One word pushes past my lips; “Matt…”

 

He grabs my hips and pushes in, sliding slowly inside and I feel him fill me up as I’ve never been before, stretching me to the limit. My eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets and my breath is stolen from me as he keeps pressing in further. He stills, hands on my hips, head hanging down, fringe falling down over his sweaty forehead in a spiky mess. His eyes are closed and his lips pursed, he seems so lost in the moment until he breaks a smile, “Now that’s fucking proper.”

 

Finally he moves, sliding out and in again at an excruciatingly slow pace while I get used to his size. Soon enough I’m panting and moaning with him as he picks up speed. I writhe and mewl like a cat in heat from his perfect, steady rhythm but I need it harder, need him to move faster. My body demands it, wanting to rise to a repeat of that previous climax.

 

“Matt,” I pant in between his thrusts, “harder, ungh, please, aah, faster!”

 

He peers up through overhanging bangs, “You want it hard? I’ll fucking go hard. I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” his rapid speech only inflames me further and then he moves his hands down to grab my bum and lift me higher up in his lap. My legs wrap around his back in a vice-like grip making him rise up on his knees to start pounding me into the couch. My sweat-soaked back slides over the leather and I am forced to breach myself against the armrest. His balls slap against me on every thrust, creating the rudest sounds which mix perfectly with our increased moaning. This new angle gives me a perfect show of his body as he slams into me with every perfect thrust. The view of him brings me to a new height of pleasure; eyes closed, briefly licking his lips and not a moment out of sync. It’s enrapturing and I have to slide my free hand down my body to circle my clit. He opens his eyes, sees me pleasuring myself, then gives me a nasty look. With his mouth open and panting he keeps fucking me so hard and deep. He growls, “Scream for me.”

 

It’s all too much and I come again with a shout while he keeps moving in and out at break-neck speed. Again those delicious tremors course through my body, making my toes curl up while I scream my throat raw as commanded by the man so utterly in control of my senses. He slows down, his stiff rod sliding effortlessly past my saturated walls and when the stars in my field of vision clear up I catch him looking down at where we are connected with a smirk on his face. He sits back on his haunches and my legs slide off his back, trembling from the strain they’ve been put in. It makes me giggle as I sweep a hand over my face, realising even my forehead is sweating.

 

His hands slide over my body, up to my breasts which he massages in a moment of tenderness. Still very hard and very much buried inside me, he leans forward again to steal a quick kiss then moves to my ear, “Ready to finish me off?”

 

Taking a deep breath I nod, but gasp in surprise as he pulls out. His intentions become clear as he crawls up my body to put his knees aside my head and suddenly I am faced by the main cause of the two best orgasms of my life.

 

“If you have anything to say, say it now,” he says smirking, “Before I make you swallow my cock until I come down your throat.”

 

I snort but laugh nonetheless; his performance from before more than deserving any reward he desires. In response I run my tongue teasingly along his shaft, looking up to see his pupils widen in lust. He grabs my hair and with his other hand holds the base to rub the head over my lips. I flick my tongue out quickly to wet his tip, making him groan. I am tasting myself on his skin which makes the act even more debauched. He’s had enough of my teasing; his expression darkens again and he starts pushing more urgently against my lips. I open my mouth willingly and he wastes no time sliding in and out in quick, short jerks of his hips. It’s a strain on my jaw, but one I’m more than willing to take for this man. He’s not being easy on me, roughly fucking my mouth while keeping me still by the tight grip on my hair. The burn makes my eyes water but it also creates a raw sense of sexuality; the act overpowering my senses as he breathes heavily above me.

 

I try to rub my tongue along his rapidly moving shaft and slack my jaw, allowing him to go deeper. He chuckles, wearing a sloppy grin, pushing himself deeper but despite it all being cautious as to not choke me. How he is capable of executing this control is beyond me; previous boyfriends have always lost themselves in a most embarrassingly way in this position, so when Matt starts thrusting more quickly, shallowly, I realise that soon I will perhaps never experience an encounter like this again. With this epiphany my gorgeous stranger moans loudly and shoots his impressive load down my throat, exactly as he said he’d do.

 

With bitter-sweet feelings, I swallow, cringing at the bitterness as it tastes no better than before, this final act throwing me back in the here and now. Here being the IT office at Warner’s, where I’ve only just completed my first week and already having sucked off a roadie like a cheap groupie. Having completely missed Matt pulling out and climbing off me I’m suddenly pulled back from my wandering thoughts by the back of his fingers softly stroking my cheek.

 

He smiles down on me, “Hey, don’t fall asleep now, would be a bit difficult to explain to the cleaners when they come in.”

 

I shake the thoughts from my head and stretch out, the couch not very comfortable any more as my skin starts to cool and feels clammy against the leather. Matt and I share a smile, one of those _yeah, we just fucked each other’s brains out and it was good_ -smiles, then he rises to a stand and searches around for the missing pieces of our outfits: his pants and my shirt. Sitting up, I hike my skirt down and take the offered shirt and blouse from his hand to dress myself. As everyone would, I wonder what’s next, but Matt seems to take control once again as he grabs his phone and wallet from the opposite couch, looking very much ready to head off.

 

I shrug inwardly; I wouldn’t have expected a declaration of love after being seduced so quite easily. And if I’m honest to myself I’m not that interested in an office-relationship at the moment anyway.

 

“Well,” he starts bluntly, “Guess I’ll leave you to your work then.”

 

He has the gall to giggle frivolously and I can’t help but laugh with him at the ridiculous situation. I lean back, showing what I hope is as much indifference, “Yeah, I think I’ll just, erm, finish up here and head home.”

 

He sighs and turns towards me, crouching down to my eye-level, “We good? I mean, since we’ll probably see each other more often and such-, wouldn’t want working together to be awkward.”

 

“Listen,” I wave my hand dismissively, “We had fun, okay? And as far as I’m concerned that’s enough. Don’t worry about it. You’re not even allowed in here, remember?”

 

He smiles a genuine smile and I can’t help but feel a little flutter in my stomach at how handsome it makes him look. With a nod, he rises and moves to the door. We share a look, and then he’s gone.

 

I listen to his swift footfalls as they fade away, the same sound that alerted me to his presence such a short time ago, and release the breath that I held inside. After a minute of contemplating what just happened I push myself up off the couch and wince as I feel pain in places I didn’t even know could get hurt. It’s a good ache, though, and I smirk realising it had been way too long since I had such a good seeing-to.

 

Moving to my desk to close off my documents and laptop, something catches my attention and I stare at the iPad lying on top of my papers. My eyes widen and I reach for the internal phone immediately, calling reception downstairs.

 

“Reception, Sophie speaking?”

 

“Hi, Sophie! Someone left their iPad in my office, he should be coming down around now, could you stop him for me?”

 

“Sure! What’s his name? I’ll- Oh hi Mr. Bellamy! Did you forget your iPad upstairs by any chance? Yes! Oh, okay. I’ll pass it on, sir. Have a pleasant weekend!”

 

I gulp and freeze. I sense the colour drain from my face. Mr. Bellamy? _Matt Bellamy!?_

 

“Hello? Are you still there? Hello!”

 

I blink, “Uhm, yes! Sorry, got distracted. Was that-?”

 

“Matthew Bellamy,” Sophie sighed audibly, “Isn’t he a dream? Have you see him perform already? He’s such a sexy, arrogant bastard on stage. Like he has all the control and confidence of the world, know what I mean?”

 

“Eh, I think I know what you mean.”

 

She giggles, “Right! Well, he’s off for the week but said he didn’t need his iPad right now and will send someone by to pick it up on Monday. You the last one up? We’re going to close up soon so if you could come down soon that would be great! Bye!”

 

I greet her. I hang up. I slowly sit down in my chair.

 

Matt Bellamy. Now I might not be good at remembering faces, but I do remember names.

 

I snort.

 

_Typical._


End file.
